Corporate Daddy

by Arlene James

  “Come early,” he urged after a moment of silence.

  “Early enough to make breakfast,” she promised.

  “Didn’t you miss me at all?” he asked softly, and she wondered how he managed to get that tone of vulnerability just right. She knew that it was a well-rehearsed technique, and still it was all she could do not to tell him exactly what he seemed to want to hear.

  “Good night, Logan,” she said, and if her voice was all husky and thick with feelings she shouldn’t feel, well, she just couldn’t help it. She hung up the phone and lay back beside Goody. “He didn’t really miss me,” she whispered. “No, not really.” He couldn’t have, because she couldn’t bear it if it was true. She just couldn’t.

  The week proved rather uneventful for Emily, probably because it was so crushing for Logan. Just when it seemed that he might get caught up at work, a pair of bombs detonated—a deal undone at the last moment and an unexpected, short-term financial crisis brought on by a nervous stock market and rumors about his uncle Ryan’s impending divorce. He had no time to interview prospective nannies, and Emily didn’t press him about it, not even when he called several times a day to vent his frustration and discuss the situation at the office.

  Strangely, though she usually enjoyed the intense moments of decision-making and crisis-defusing, Emily found that she did not particularly miss the office. She appreciated that Logan called her and asked her opinion or just ranted and raved in her ear, but that was enough for her—for the time being. She loved being home with Amanda Sue. Staying one step ahead of the world’s fastest, brightest toddler was more than merely challenging.

  She was pleased that Logan called to talk to Amanda Sue during the day and that he walked through the door in the evening with his arms open. Seeing Amanda Sue run to her daddy at the end of the day, giggling and so delighted to have him home, made Emily think that it was worth anything to be there to witness it. The difficulties of his day always seemed to have disappeared somewhere along the way, and he would sweep his little daughter up to hug and kiss her, tossing her over his shoulder to ride piggyback into the bedroom so he could change clothes. They’d romp and play while Emily got dinner on the table. Then, somehow, she and Logan would manage to eat and carry on a sensible conversation while feeding Amanda Sue, even though she would occasionally bang on her chair tray and demand, “Me, Daddy! Me!”

  “I see you, ’Manda mine,” he would say. “You have tomatoes in your hair, and you’re rude, but you’re still beautiful, and I love you. Now hush up.”

  Life felt altogether too good that week, until Emily came down the stairs on Friday after putting Amanda Sue down for her morning nap and found Logan standing in the living room when he ought to be at work. “What’s wrong?” she said, suddenly certain that it was something terrible.

  He stepped forward sluggishly. “I have to go to New York this evening.”

  She wasn’t sure when the ax would fall, when the bad news would hit. Leaning back against the counter, she asked calmly, “How long will you be gone?”

  “At least through Monday,” he said in a funereal voice. Suddenly he stepped forward and engulfed her in a fierce embrace. “Oh, God, Em,” he said, “I don’t want to go!”

  She put her arms around him, half afraid, half…amused. “What’s the problem, Logan? Anything I can help you with?”

  He jerked back. “Yes! Come with me!”

  “What?”

  “You and Amanda Sue—come with me.”

  “It isn’t business?”

  “Of course it’s business, but I want you with me. I want you both with me.”

  She put her hands to her hips and rolled her eyes. “You want to fly your daughter from San Antonio to New York and back again in a matter of a few days, just so she can sit in a hotel room? Are you nuts? She’ll be ripping the paper off the walls by the end of the second day—and I’ll be helping her!”

  He frowned then. “You don’t have to sit around the hotel. New York’s full of museums and galleries and—”

  “Oh, right! Let’s turn Amanda Sue loose in the museums of New York! Wouldn’t you like them still standing when she’s old enough to actually benefit from them?”

  His frowned deepened. “She’s not that bad.”

  “She’s a toddler, Logan. She doesn’t have any business going with you to New York!”

  Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re right. It’s just… I don’t want to be away from you, either of you!”

  “Oh, please. I can understand you not wanting to leave your daughter, but it’s the weekend. I wouldn’t be here, anyway.”

  “Don’t you get it?” he said angrily. “I missed you like crazy last weekend. You! And I had no intention of doing it again. I’ve been looking forward all week to having at least one day with you, one whole day, and now there will be no weekend at all, just one long, miserable week with a hole in the middle!”

  He meant it. He was that intent on seducing her. Shaken, Emily tried to think what to say, what to do. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Abruptly, Logan turned and swept out of the room. For several moments she just stood there, trying to decide what to do next. It was as if her body decided for her. She knew even as she stepped away from the counter that she was going after him and that she didn’t have any business doing it, but that didn’t seem to matter.

  He had dropped his suit jacket on the floor and was throwing clothes into a suitcase on the bed when she came into his room. “Shouldn’t you fold those?” she asked timidly.

  He stopped what he was doing, hung his head, and finally sat down on the edge of the bed, legs splayed before him. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you,” he said apologetically. Loosening his tie, he stripped it off. “It’s just so frustrating!”

  She came farther into the room and picked up his jacket, which she hung on the bedpost. “I know.” She retrieved his tie from the pillow where he’d tossed it, folded it neatly and laid it on the table beside the bed. “All parents feel some frustration, especially single parents. You can’t help being torn between work and your child.”

  He was shaking his head. “This is not about Amanda Sue, dammit!” Suddenly he came up off the bed in a single, fluid motion. Fastening his hands around her elbows, he shook her gently. “This is about you! You and me.” Dismayed, she turned her head away, but he cupped her chin and made her look at him. “Tell me that you’re not attracted to me. Make me believe it!”

  She opened her mouth, but one glance into his fiercely burning blue eyes told her that lying was hopeless, so instead she pulled a deep breath and attempted to marshal her thoughts. “Logan,” she began carefully, “we’ve discussed this before, and—”

  He yanked her against him and covered her mouth with his. Frozen in shock, she could do nothing more than stand there, wrapped against him by the confining strength of his arms, but then he widened his stance, urged her closer still, and slanted his mouth across hers in a plea so poignant she could not leash her reaction. Her body softened, even as her mind screamed silently that she must remain firm. Groaning, he dropped his hands to her bottom and pulled her against the hardness pulsing from his groin. His kiss moved across her cheek to her ear, where he breathed hot words that shivered down her spine.

  “Em, oh, Em, I need you so!”

  She shuddered, her knees weakening, and grabbed at his shoulders. “Logan.” She couldn’t think what else to say. His mouth came back to hers, hotly possessive, urgently persuasive. Lost, she pushed her arms up around his neck, and in reward he stabbed his tongue into her mouth, reaching deeply as his hands swarmed over her back.

  Something opened inside her, softened and swelled. Suddenly her breasts were tender, the nipples pushing against his chest. His mouth broke away from hers and came to rest again just below her ear. He bit her, and it was not a dainty nip with the edges of his teeth, but a hot, wet, openmouthed, almost vampiric but utterly painless fixing of his teeth in her flesh. She nearly collapsed, shu
ddering as sensations too numerous and keen to identify rolled through her in convulsive waves. He licked his way to her earlobe with the tip of his tongue, and fixed his teeth there, at the same time shoving up the bottom of her sweater with both hands until he reached the band of her bra and released it.

  Frantic to feel his mouth on hers again, she made no protest when he pulled the sweater over her head and brushed away the bra. His hands on her bare back made her skin prickle. Or was it the prickle of his beard against her palms that made her seize his mouth with hers? She objected with a moan when he shoved her away and down onto the bed. He followed on his knees, settling astride her, and a wave of his arm knocked the suitcase off the bed, while with his other hand he tore at the buttons on his shirt, breaking one and ripping away another. With a growl of frustration, he gave it up, yanking the shirt over his head, turning the sleeves inside out as he pulled his hands free one at a time.

  Chest heaving, he leaned over her, his weight levered onto one arm. She knew that he was looking at her, staring at her breasts, but somehow she couldn’t be embarrassed. Impatiently, she threw a hand around his neck and pulled him down atop her, gasping when bare skin met bare skin. Her nipples felt hard as rocks, the hair on his chest coarse and silky at the same time. He was heavy, solid, warm and firm. Reaching down, he pulled one of her knees up, making a place for himself between her legs, and shifting his weight onto one forearm.

  “You’re beautiful,” he told her, his gaze never leaving hers. “I mean it, Em. You’re incredibly beautiful, and not just here and here.” He smoothed a hand over her face and down to cup one breast. “You’re beautiful inside and out. I think I always knew it and it frightened me for some reason. Maybe I sensed on some level that if I acknowledged it, I’d start to fall in love in with you.”

  “Don’t!” she whispered. “Don’t say what you can’t mean.”

  “I won’t,” he promised her, tugging at her nipple with his fingertips. Then he bowed his head and sucked the nipple into his mouth.

  She nearly came up off the bed. He slid his hand down between her legs, cupping her there through her jeans. Rolling his hips against hers, he used his body weight and the erect length of his hardness to press and move his hand against her while his mouth tugged at her breast. Lightning knocked her eyes back in her head. He shifted, grinding his hips and his hand against her and angling his upper body away so he could show the other breast equal attention, but this time he licked and nibbled and kissed until she thought she would go insane. Undulating beneath him, she pulled up both knees and dug her heels into the bed, desperately needing greater contact. He gave it to her.

  Sliding his mouth up to her throat, he shifted until his body fully covered hers and, taking his hand away, rocked against her. His hardness against the seam of her jeans sent a flash of heat upward. His chest dragged against her swollen breasts, sending that same heat flash down again to explode low in her belly. He licked and nibbled a path to her mouth, surging against her repeatedly.

  “Come for me,” he commanded.

  Kissing her, he speared his tongue into her mouth and quickened the tempo of his hips, stroking hard against her, his arms sliding beneath her shoulders. It was not enough, and at the very same time it was too much. She clasped her arms about his neck and ground her mouth against his, helpless to resist the building tidal wave of climax. Tears pricked her eyes. Her nipples tightened almost painfully. When the great wave crashed over her, she wrapped her legs around him, as well, riding the crest for an instant, then tumbling and rolling beneath it. She didn’t remember breaking the kiss, but was vaguely aware of her strength fading into limp mindlessness.

  She didn’t know how long he simply held her, his cheek pressed to hers, but eventually he lifted his head and said thickly, “I wish I had time to really make love to you. I want to be inside you the next time you do that.”

  She opened her eyes, trying to think why that shouldn’t be, and he kissed her quickly. “I have to get the baby,” he said, and rolled away. In that very same instant, Emily realized that Amanda Sue was screaming the house down, shrieking at the top of her lungs. The baby had awakened from her nap and obviously had been demanding attention for some time now—and she hadn’t even heard her!

  Dazed by this fact, Emily pushed up onto her arms, and the reality of the whole situation hit her with killing clarity. She was half-naked, moist with the remnants of a shattering sexual climax given to her by one of the world’s most knowledgeable lovers, while the child in her care screamed with frustration. All her fine convictions, all her reasonable determinations had been swept aside by the potent touch of a man who could never really be hers. Shame bowed her head and brought tears to her eyes. Quickly, she scrambled up and began searching for her bra and sweater. The bra had been kicked under the bed. The sweater was stuffed down between the end of the mattress and the footboard. She yanked them on, trembling from head to toe. The rubber band holding back her hair had slipped to the end of her ponytail, but she had no time to fix it.

  “Are you decent?” Logan asked cheerfully, coming into the room. He had turned Amanda Sue’s face into the hollow of his shoulder and carried a clean diaper, with which he shielded her view.

  No, she thought. I guess not. But then she pushed the guilt away and lifted her chin. “Is she all right?”

  Amanda Sue sniffled and said around her fingers, “Oan num-nums.”

  “Of course, sweetheart,” Emily said, her voice trembling. “I’ll get lunch on the table.” Avoiding eye contact with Logan, she slunk toward the door. He tossed aside the diaper and reached for her, but she pulled back at the last instant and slipped free. She needed time to compose herself, time to figure out how to handle this.

  She had decided nothing by the time Logan, now wearing a T-shirt and jeans, carried Amanda Sue into the kitchen and put her into her high chair. He came to Emily and slid an arm around her waist while she cut into small pieces the sandwich she’d made for Amanda Sue earlier. “Emily,” he said, kissing the side of her neck, “I want you to know how much—”

  “I can’t talk about this now, Logan,” she interrupted, stopping what she was doing. “Please.”

  He looped his other arm around her chest and kissed the top of her ear. “All right,” he agreed after a moment. “If that’s the way you want it.”

  “Thank you.”

  He turned her to face him. “Don’t thank me,” he said, “because the deciding factor here is time. Just so you know, when I get back from New York, I don’t intend to let you out of my sight again until we’ve settled some things between us.”

  Settled. She knew what that meant, and she knew that it could end only one way for her. She wondered if she had the courage to face it, the strength to walk away when the time came, for it would surely come. It was inevitable. It was what lay between then and now that she could not envision. She couldn’t even think about it, not yet. Amanda Sue banged on her tray, demanding her “num-nums,” and giving Emily an excuse to turn away again.

  “Let’s eat lunch,” she said, “then you can spend some time with your daughter before you have to go.”

  “My daughter and you,” he said, reaching around her for the nearest plate.

  She closed her eyes as he moved away, wondering if he could possibly understand what he was doing to her, asking of her. Of course he couldn’t. They were miles apart on the idea of affairs. While romantic love for him was a transitory condition, it could never be so for her. If she allowed herself to make love with him, it would be because she was in love with him and always would be. He would break her heart. He was doing it already. She had to find a way to protect herself from the inevitable.

  God help her.

  Steeling herself, she moved to the table and tried to behave as if she had not just come one step away from giving herself totally to her notoriously fickle boss. It was easier than she expected, thanks to Logan himself, but then he’d had a great deal of experience at this sort of thing, while s
he had virtually none. Amanda Sue helped, too, demanding her usual generous share of attention. Emily gave herself some space by insisting that she clean up while Logan spend time with his daughter. Afterward, she volunteered to neatly pack for him the things he had laid out on his bed and tried to keep the baby from flinging around.

  It was a strange experience, folding Logan’s intimate articles of clothing, organizing his toiletries, making sure his suit and tie were spotless, a very wifely sort of thing. She allowed herself to imagine, for a moment, what it would be like to be married to Logan Fortune, to share this big bed with him nightly, to wake beside him every morning, to bear his child. But would she be enough for him? Could he ever remain faithful to just one woman? She couldn’t allow herself to believe it. She dared not believe it.

  When she returned to the living room, he was giving Amanda Sue a “horsey” ride on his back. Emily sat down in the armchair to watch them. Logan ambled over on all fours, Amanda Sue holding tight to his hair with both hands, and “dumped” Amanda Sue off over his head, wrestling her around to his lap as he sat on the floor next to Emily’s legs, his back to the chair. He played the name-the-body-part game with Amanda Sue, with much tickling and giggling and smooching going on. When they’d run out of Amanda Sue’s body parts, he lifted Emily’s foot and asked, “What’s this?”

  “Poot!” she announced confidently.

  “Amanda Sue’s foot?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she confirmed, giggling at the obvious mistake.

  “Well, this must be Amanda Sue’s ankle, then,” he said, kissing the part in question. Again his daughter insisted that it was. “And this must be Amanda Sue’s leg,” he went on, sliding his hands up Emily’s leg. When he reached Emily’s thighs, he pulled her off the chair onto the floor next to him, much to Amanda Sue’s amusement. Amanda Sue laughed when he kissed Emily’s belly, claiming it to be hers. When he kissed Emily’s shoulders and neck, arms and hands, elbows and knees, it was at Amanda Sue’s instigation. Finally Amanda Sue pointed to Emily’s mouth, and Emily knew that she should put a stop to the game, but before she could do so, Logan was kissing her quite thoroughly, so thoroughly that Amanda Sue grew impatient and finally dug a finger between their mouths to separate them.